C Am F C The pilots playing poker in the cockpit of the plane, Am F Dm the casualties arriving like the dropping of the rain. C Am F G And a mountain of machinery will fall before a man, C F G C when you're white boots marching in a yellow land C Am F C It's written in the ashes of the village towns we burn, Am F Dm it's written in the empty beds of fathers unreturned. C Am F G And the chocolate in the children’s eyes will never understand, C F G C when you're white boots marching in a yellow land. Am Red blow the bugles of the dawn, G the morning has arrived, you must be gone. F G And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls, C Bb - C like old whores following tired armies. C Am F C Train them well, the men who will be fighting by your side, Am F Dm and never turn your back, if the battle turns the tide, C Am F G for the colours of a civil war are louder than commands, C F G C when you're white boots marching in a yellow land. C Am F C Blow them from the forest and burn them from your sight, Am F Dm tie their hands behind their backs, and question through the night. C Am F G But when the firing squad is ready, they'll be spitting where they stand, C F G C at the white boots marching in a yellow land. Am Red blow the bugles of the dawn, G the morning has arrived, you must be gone. F G And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls, C Bb - C like old whores following tired armies. C Am F C The comic and the beauty queen are dancing on the stage, Am F Dm raw recruits are lining up like coffins in a cage. C Am F G Oh, we're fighting in a war we lost before the war began, C F G C we're the white boots marching in a yellow land. Am Red blow the bugles of the dawn, G the morning has arrived you must be gone. F G And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls, C Bb - C like old whores following tired armies.
